Sparks Into Flame
by WindowAlwaysOpen
Summary: Princess of Light meets Slytherin Prince. What if the pair isn't as clear cut as they seem? What if the attraction wins? Blurs them? Everyone is back for one final year at Hogwarts after the war. Two students might find they are more alike than they think when the adventure the girl craves is dependent on the boy she despises. And when light infects the dark? The boy has no chance.
1. Chapter 1- Trains and Trouble

****10/05/17 Chapter One- Trains and Trouble****

A/N I have wanted to write this for a long time, and I have finally worked up the courage to turn my ideas into a Harry Potter fanfiction. I have another fanfiction still ongoing based on the Sisters Grimm series, another of my favorites, so check that out too. Review please, and enjoy.

Disclaimer- I do not own the magical world that is Harry Potter, JK Rowling does.

-Hermione

The war was over, but its effects on the survivor's lives were not, and never will be. People were lost, good people who gave everything they had to offer for the hope that Voldemort and the darkness he infected into the wizarding world would one day be vanquished.

Hermione Jean Granger chewed her bottom lip softly as she jotted these thoughts into her dark-brown leather notebook. She hoped to write a book one day to commemorate the people who had given their lives for the greater good. She wanted to make certain that they would never be forgotten. It was her way of coping with the survivor's guilt she felt weighing her down when she looked at the people she cared about who had lost so much. Little Teddy Lupin who would never know his parents. Sweet, brave Neville whose parents were even worse off than Teddy's. She knew questioning why she had lived was a dangerous thing, but she lay awake thinking about it most nights anyway.

The train compartment door slid open loudly, jolting Hermione from her thoughts as she hastened to stuff her book into her bottomless bag. She looked up to see her two best friends in the world, and her heart lightened instantly.

"Mione, you can't possibly be studying yet! We haven't even got there," Ron complained, a goofy grin stretching over his freckled face.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's comforting to know that even in our last year at Hogwarts, you still haven't got your priorities straight, Ron," Hermione said with a teasing half-smile, her expressive brown eyes dancing with mirth at her reference to that long ago night when they had met Fluffy the three-headed dog.

Ron stuck his tongue out childishly and flopped his bright red hair out of his eyes. It had gotten quite long over the summer, but he refused to cut it.

"Haven't you learned, Ron, there is always something for Hermione to read," Harry said, pulling the shorter girl in for a hug. Her head barely reached the bottom of his chin, to Hermione's chagrin. Her boys had gotten tall.

The boys unceremoniously plopped down on the compartment's two-seater across from Hermione. This would be one of the last times they rode the Hogwarts Express train together, and melancholy tinted the excitement for the beginning of the end of their time as students at Hogwarts.

The three close friends chatted about the upcoming year, and when the snack tray came around, Harry and Ron of course bought four of everything, as they had every year. Hermione, on the other hand, was always too nervous to eat before the first day of school, and she doubted that would ever change.

\- Draco

Draco Malfoy dragged a hand over his face. Pansy was driving him nuts, talking about nothing and yet still making more noise than a room full of giants. It really was a gift. Breaking up with her was a bit difficult when you couldn't get a word in edgewise.

Blaise looked up at him, eyes laughing at his ordeal. As Draco's best friend, he knew exactly what he was going through, and was enjoying watching his normally cool, unfazed friend turn an aggravated shade of red.

"So Draco, on the first Hogsmeade trip, assuming they will still do that this year, with the war and all being over, do you think we could stop by Madame Leid's Dresses? It's this new place that's supposed to be, like, telepathic. It knows the dress you want before you do! And I will need a new dress for the Hallow's Eve ball in October, and I only accept the best, so-"

"Pansy," Draco drawled in an exasperated tone, "You won't need my permission to go to Hogsmeade, because I have no intention of going on another date with you. Ever again. So do whatever the bloody hell you want."

Pansy blinked. Draco sighed, and waited while understanding slowly dawned in the dull girl's eyes. Lord, it was like watching the fucking sun rise! She was pretty enough, but Draco liked a girl who could keep him on his toes intellectually as well. And Pansy could barely keep up with a first year.

"But Drakey, our engagement was what your father wanted before-"

This was the last straw. Draco pushed the girl none too gently off his lap and moved towards the compartment door with an icy look that stopped the tearful witch from whining anymore. "Don't ever mention Lucius again. This is your warning." With that, the silver-blond wizard was exited the cart.

Draco supposed he could stretch his legs for a bit, see what other classmates he could mess with. Maybe Weasley, he was always fun to mess with. But Draco knew who he really wanted. Hermione Jean Granger. Bookworm, know-it-all, and Princess of Light. She was the brightest witch of their age, and he was the brightest wizard. He just didn't feel the need to show it off every class by sticking his hand permanently to the ceiling like some people. He had been tied with her in schoolwork for years, or at least only a point behind. She really was a bloody genius, but he was no idiot either.

Draco's hungry eyes fell on the compartment the Golden Trio always occupied, since first year, and he checked his watch. And waited. Three, two…

The door slid open as Hermione shuffled out with her bundle of robes in her hand. She always changed before everyone else, exactly thirty minutes before the train was scheduled to arrive.

Draco pushed off the wall and just as Hermione was opening the bathroom door, he slammed his palm into the frame, forcing it shut and effectively backing the girl against the wall with no escape.

Hermione's breath caught, her brown eyes flashing. Draco noted the gold laced into the warm brown. He could read her emotions so easily, just with one glance at those eyes. It made her weak, showing Draco exactly where her head was.

"Granger, how utterly predictable you are. Changing into your robes already? Afraid the men's loo will be full later?" Malfoy smirked, watching the familiar fire ignite in her eyes.

"Well I know you like to take your time in the ladies room with your shag of the week, so I was just being proactive," Hermione shot back.

"Shag of the day, darling, shag of the day. They're clingy enough as it is- imagine what would happen if I gave them a whole week?"

"You're right- they'd run away screaming and then when you crawled back for seconds they wouldn't want you. Good thing you don't make that mistake."

Draco kept his carefully structured facade intact, but not without difficulty. On the inside he was stuck between laughter and the urge to strangle her.

"There is one thing you should know about me by now, Granger. No woman would ever not want me once they've had a taste. Just ask one of your Gryffindor friends. I've fucked most of them once or twice by now." To Hermione's dismay, she shivered at his vulgar words. Draco smirked, knowing he had won, and pushed off of the door. He took his time walking back to his compartment. He was in no rush to get back to Pansy, and besides, he knew Hermione was watching him walk away with the last word.

This year was going to be fun- no Lucius and no Voldemort, just the normalcy of going to school with his mates and messing with the infuriatingly good girl. His favorite pastime since first year when she walked into his potions class with her buck-teeth, bushy brown hair, and insatiable curiosity. At that point, he hadn't believed that anyone could be inherently good, but after watching her for a few months, he realized hat was exactly what she was. A good person.

When Lucius raised Draco, he tried to teach him that purebloods were better, and mudbloods were dirt. What Lucius didn't count on was Narcissa. She never believed in that crap, and she made sure that Draco didn't either. Lucius wasn't a father to Draco. No, Lucius was just someone who liked to beat his little boy when he was bored.

Narcissa taught Draco how to survive in his divided world by pretending and keeping up pretenses, but she never allowed him to fall in the abyss that Lucius had long ago. Lucius made his decisions in the war, and in the end, he was barely family. He was an imprisoned man who had sold his son to the Dark Lord. Narcissa was Malfoy's only family, and he loved her fiercely for it.

Blaise met him outside his compartment wearing a smirk. "Having fun with the bookworm?"

Draco smiled innocently, a look he pulled off with frightening ease. "Who me? I would never."

Blaise shook his head in wonder. "I could never understand what's so bloody interesting about teasing the goody. Potty and Weasel are much more fun."

Draco's lips lifted up at the corners with dark humor. "That's where you and I disagree, mate."

\- Hermione

Hermione hated him. She hated his smirk, hated his unruffled attitude, and most of all hated it when he bested her. It was only about half the time, as the pair were pretty evenly matched, but it killed her to watch him walk away with the last word.

He was no longer a ninny about the origins of her blood, though, which made things more interesting. He now had to rely on his wit to best her, instead of just reverting back to that meaningless insult of 'mudblood.'

Hermione had to wonder if he ever had truly believed that it was her blood that made her inferior. He definitely made use of the insult, but his eyes never flashed with cold truth when he said it. It was like a second thought, not his first choice of insult. He usually resorted to it when there were people around, or if she was winning.

When he really did best her, based on his own merit and not the tired insult, his shrewd gray eyes flashed like knives, pooling with silvery light. That's when Hermione knew she wouldn't win. He was like something out of a story, not from this world. His magic oozed from every pore, lighting him from within in a way that made the casual passerby take a second look, wondering how a person could look so extraordinary while being so real at the same time.

Hermione angrily finished changing into her robes and walked back to her compartment. Looking through the clear door, she saw her two best friends eating chocolate frogs and comparing their cards. Harry's green eyes were still lit with the excitement and wonder that Hermione too, had felt when she first came to Hogwarts.

She was close with both boys, but Harry understood how she felt about the wizarding world more than Ron. Sometimes she felt like she would wake up and it would all have been an amazing, but fantastical dream. That she would go back to her life of mundane, human things, with her parents pushing her to be a dentist like they were. Harry had expressed the same sentiments, not wanting to go back to his little cupboard under the stairs.

"Hey boys. Have you decided to get in your robes yet?" Hermione asked, hoping to gently prod them towards changing without being too bossy. It was a work in progress.

"Yeah, we should probably go, mate," Ron said, slapping Harry on the back.

"Hermione are you alright? You look a little flushed," Harry said, noting the pink tinge to the girl's golden skin tone.

"Oh, I'm alright. I'm just hungry, and I won't be able to keep anything down until after the sorting ceremony," Hermione replied, feeling the heat in her cheeks lightly with the back of her slender hands. "I'll just stay here and catch up on some reading while you boys go change."

Harry shrugged, and Ron shuffled out after him, robes in tow.

Hermione sighed, and leaned back into the chair. Her book was in her bag, but she just wanted to close her eyes for a while. She was feeling a little out of sorts, and Draco's words kept her thinking. They rang true when he said them, and she wondered just how many of her friends had slept with the Slytherin Prince.

Suddenly, her compartment door opened again, and she sat up, not expecting the boys back so soon. Instead of finding Harry and Ron, she found herself facing a very angry. Pansy Parkinson.

The girl sneered at Hermione, contorting her pretty features into a decidedly ugly expression. "I don't know what you're thinking, mudblood, but there is no way you are getting my fiancée. Do you understand?"

Hermione's eyebrows knitted together. She wasn't scared of Pansy, but she was confused. Why would she possibly think that Draco would ever… that she would ever… "How dense can you be? Pansy, what-"

"Don't call me dense, like I dn't see it! I don't know how you got him to dump me, but I saw you talking to him by the loo, so you can't deny it. I bet you spelled him or something. Drakey would never even look at the likes of you. An ugly little bushy-haired bookworm. That's all you are." Pansy looked like she was reassuring herself more than Hermione.

Hermione responded coolly, upset that Parkinson thought she would stoop so low as to spell a boy into liking her. "I may be a bookworm, but it sounds like your only prospect just dumped you. I doubt you could get a job after school with your marks in class. Instead of worrying about me, you should really decide what you're going to tell Mummy and Daddy when they find out you were dumped by your financial security blanket."

Pansy gaped open-mouthed at Granger, her blue eyes glittering with unshed tears. "You stupid bint! I hope he fucks you and dumps you like everyone else, maybe that would teach you your lesson!" Pansy fumbled with the door and left in a hurry, carefully dabbing at her eyes to remove evidence of weakness before heading back into the snake pit.

Hermione shook her head slowly. Harry and Ron came back in with Ginny following behind, holding Harry's hand.

"Hi Hermione, do you mind if I join your compartment? I can only handle the twins and Lavender for so long. And was that Pansy I just saw?" The stunning redhead was looking at Hermione quizzically.

"Of course, Gin! Sit on my side. Pansy was just being her usual dim-witted self, drawing outrageous conclusions she thinks actually make sense."

Ginny happily sat across from Harry in the empty seat next to Hermione as the train chugged closer and closer to the lake. The female redhead looked at Harry like he was her world, and he was obviously just as taken with her.

At one point, Hermione thought that she and Ron would have the relationship that Harry and Ginny did, but they were just too different. Hermione wanted more adventures, and someone to explore life with before really settling down. Ron was ready for a stable job and a stay at home wife for the many kids he wanted to have. It really wasn't his fault, and Hermione had made peace with it long ago. He wanted what his parents had, which was great. Hermione just wanted more.

Finally the students had reached the lake, and Hagrid stood waiting for them. Everyone was taking the boats this year, something McGonogall thought would be safer.

The four went straight to Hagrid with big smiles, excited to see their giant friend. They would be attending his wedding in September, planned by Madame Máxime.

"Oh, 'Arry, Ron, 'Ermione! 'Ow are you! And Ginny, o' course. Last year fer the Golden Trio 'ere!"

The half-giant crushed the students to his massive chest, and they all hugged him back while trying to remain breathing.

"Hi Hagrid, how are you?" Harry asked, smiling warmly at his first wizarding aquantaince.

Hagrid grinned, scratching his head. "With the wedding coming up and all, I ne'er sleep anymore! You four go get yer selves a boat and have a nice ride. I'll catch up with you all later."

The four complied, walking towards the black lake. Hermione always marveled at the reflective quality of the black water. She could see the friendly lights of the castle reflected in the bottomless depths of the lake, its warmth contrasting with the leeching qualities of the mysterious body of water.

She looked around, spotting old friends coming back for their last year together at Hogwarts. There was Seamus, Nott, Neville, Luna, Malfoy, the Patil twins, Lavender, Daphne Greengrass, and many more. The first years around them were looking around with wide eyes, transporting Hermione back to her first time seeing the expansive view.

What she remembered most was the feeling that she finally fit in, something she never felt at muggle school. She always knew there was something… different about her. When she first received the letter, the puzzle pieces snapped together for her. Her parents, on the other hand, took more convincing. They thought that it was some sort of elaborate prank, or scheme for money. But they let their darling girl go anyway, loving her enough to put aside their fears.

Hermione blinked hard, stopping the sting of tears that had caught her off guard. The girl missed her parents, who didn't remember her and lived in Australia. And it was her fault, just more guilt clouding her conscious.

She turned to her friends, all of them headed for their last year. They had grown and matured over the years, especially with all they had gone through. Picking sides for a war waging within your school, tearing the student body in half, was something that made you mature quickly.

Hermione was thinking this as they made their way through the blackness to the glittering castle that was to be their home once agin for the next year. Though she was with her friends, she felt oddly alone, and a chill had slipped under her skin, causing goosebumps to rise.

She missed the spark that used to drive her to be the best while she was at Hogwarts. She still wanted to be the best in her classes, but there was no purpose anymore, no Voldemort to defeat. Just safe, normal school. Albeit with magic, but missing the adrenaline rush she was used to growing up alongside. It was a friend she missed dearly.

Though neither knew it, a curly-haired brunette and a silver-eyed blond both squared their shoulders at the same time, on different boats, preparing for their last year at Hogwarts. And both hoped for the spark they craved so dearly.

A/N Please review, and I will continue to post/write. Does anyone else love the fall weather that's starting up again? It's my favorite season, and I'm always more inspired in this weather. Review and it really will help. Thanks loves ;)


	2. Chapter 2- Feasts and Friends

A/N Thanks for all the support I got! It means a lot, please REVIEW. It makes my day. Not kidding, I love it, need it. Please. Alright now back to the story.

-Hermione

The Great Hall is the same, yet changed. The war has taken so many familiar faces from Hogwarts, but the school has preservered despite the losses it has suffered. We are back, and we are stronger than ever. The next generation of Hogwart's students is already sitting in the same seats we occupied not so long ago, readying themselves to be sorted into their Houses.

Hermione dropped her journal into the bag that was magically transported to her new quarters and walked into the Great Hall with her Gryffindor friends behind her. They filled in the table, raising the volume in the room a few levels higher than it already was. The excitement in the air was palpable, and the first years' anxiety was shown plainly on their young faces.

She turned around slowly, reveling at the familiarity of the four tables, the enchanted ceiling, the multitude of black robes… This was her home. When she was a muggle, an extraordinary little girl who loved everything she learned and had the ability to make strange things happen, she had never fit in. When she had her wand in her hand, she was herself, and not even a war could take away the feeling she got when she walked into the castle.

Settling in against her boisterous second family, Hermione watched as McGonagall took Dumbledore's old spot. The teen's heart saddened. Dumbledore was another bright spot the war had snuffed out.

Hermione felt an overwhelming surge of guilt overcome her with such a force she gasped aloud. Why did you live when one of the greatest wizards of all time is now dead? You know you can't even begin to measure up to his accomplishments, yet he is dead and you are alive. Hermione shuddered and bit her lip to distract her from her thoughts. McGonagall had begun speaking, and Hermione turned her attention onto the older woman.

McGonagall was donned in green and purple robes, her hat and glasses positioned on her head as usual. She was a pillar of strength, a force of life that never wavered in her position throughout the war, always fighting for her students and the light that Voldemort wanted to extinguish. Hermione had grown quite close to the elder witch, especially when the professor told Hermione she would be Head Girl this year.

Hermione hadn't understood why McGonagall had made her Head Girl and Draco Head Boy, but the elder witch claimed it would help to unite the student body the war had torn apart. Hermione of course accepted the position, but she was dreading working with Draco this year.

At least she would have her own private rooms, instead of the normal one connected to the Gryffindor common room. The common room connected to her new room would be shared only with Draco, who hopefully wouldn't notice the change in her. Hermione doubted she would have been able to be as cheerful as she normally would. She was different, wasn't the same person her friends were used to. Only Harry and Ron knew her well enough to accept her changes, as they were different themselves as well. The Trio was closer than ever, but maybe not as Golden as they once were. They had seen too much to be Golden, Hermione thought bitterly.

As the last first year student was assigned their House- Robert Zane, Ravenclaw- the feast appeared, and everyone began to eat. As Head Girl, Hermione could leave the feast at her leisure, something she was grateful for. After forcing down a few bites of cornbread, turkey, and collard greens, the brunette excused herself quietly and left the Great Hall.

When the doors shut behind her, Hermione let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. Out in the quiet of the hallway, the noise she had come from was even louder than it had been when she was a part of it. She was separated from the swirl of happy chaos and chatter now, and it seemed unbearable from her new point of view in the blanket of silence the hallway provided. What was wrong with her? The war was over and she was out here, hiding from the friends that had flashed her worried looks when she had excused herself.

Walking down the hallway, Hermione planned to go to the library and reread some of her assigned books for this year. She had a schedule full of difficult classes, which wasn't unusual, but still stressful. The school had a new potions teacher this year as well, since Snape would be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. The bright witch wanted to make sure the new teacher would like her.

Hermione bumped into someone, and fell on her butt on the stone cold floor of the hallway. "I'm sorry-" She stopped herself. It was Draco Malfoy, his muscular frame not even slightly affected by the harsh collision. Yet she ended up sprawled on the floor. How unfair.

"I know you are, Granger. What I want to know is why you are out wandering around when your Gryffindor friends are all at the feast. Don't tell me they got sick of you already- that would have to be a new record."

Hermione angrily brushed her cinnamon curls behind her ears, eyes flashing with the familiar spark she craved. The spark that was always easy to find when he was around.

-Draco

Draco had to get out of there. The sense of failure that he felt when the snakes he shared a House with glanced his way, whispering behind their hands, was too much. He had failed because he hadn't wanted to succeed. Dumbledore was important to Snape, and Severus was the closest thing to a father Draco had ever had. Draco could never kill Dumbledore.

The raucous laughter that filled the Great Hall would have once been a welcome sound, a welcome distraction. Now it just annoyed him. He wanted to go to his own dorms and practice some spells, maybe take a dreamless sleeping potion and let the emptiness consume him.

Draco hadn't had a good night's sleep in two years, since Voldemort's return. When he closed his eyes, his mind wandered to the horrid things he had seen after his biological father all but sold him to the Dark Lord. Draco had thought himself mature, that he could handle it. He didn't listen to Snape, hadn't wanted help. Now he knew that he was just a young, foolish boy, not ready for the terrors that awaited him at the hands of Voldemort. The things he had seen, had endured… he shuddered, not allowing his mind to dwell on the scenes that filled his nightmares.

As he turned a corner, a small object hit him and fell to the ground. He didn't even step backwards, but the girl had fallen to the floor from the force of their collision. His eyes traveled up a pair of slim, golden-tan legs, exposed due to the girl's robes flying up when she fell. They continued up, only to find Granger's face. Damn, he never knew she had legs like those hidden under her robes. Too bad she wasn't his type. He didn't do good girls, and she was the epitome of good. He could never be with someone so untarnished when he had been through so much horror. He doubted he could ever truly be with anyone again.

"I'm sorry-" she started, then saw who it was. He saw recognition flash in her eyes and the restless expression he saw her wearing in the Great Hall was replaced with a spark of intrigue. Draco smirked, recalling their last conversation. The way she had shivered when he whispered to her about how he had fucked her friends and left them begging for more.

"I know you are, Granger. What I want to know is why you are out wandering around when your Gryffindor friends are all at the feast. Don't tell me they got sick of you already- that would have to be a new record." Draco got his desired result. Hermione's eyes flashed with anger, and he felt better already. More alive, somehow.

"I could ask the same of you, Malfoy, but Slytherins aren't really known for having friends, are they?" Hermione said this while struggling to get up and straighten her robes, which was quite a feat as the black fabric all but swallowed her small frame. Malfoy stretched out his hand to help her, but immediately pulled it back, cursing softly at his near-blunder.

"You're wrong there, Hermione. We just aren't as vocal and weak about our friendships. That's Gryffindor, always so sappy and lovey-dovey."

Hermione had finally regained her footing. "Arguably, that's what makes us strong. Something you would never understand. Drawing strength from our friends is what keeps us sane."

Draco took a step forward, brushing a stray cinnamon-colored curl behind her ear in a way that might've seemed sweet to an onlooker, but was actually cold and borderline cruel. Hermione refused to flinch. "Then why are you out here, most likely headed to the library, alone?" Malfoy whispered, his tone disgusted and his molten silver eyes consuming her.

Hermione opened her mouth. Closed it again. He was right, she was avoiding her friends. And she had no excuse. "I don't know," she whispered quietly. He almost missed her softly spoken words laced with truth that made them more dangerous than any biting insult.

Draco blinked. Her honesty surprised him. He could never expect the expected with her, like he could with almost everyone else. He withdrew the hand that had tucked her hair behind her ear. The curl was soft and cool to the touch, and he wanted to grab a handful of her curls and pull, wanted to watch her mouth part in pain and surprise. He needed the reminder he could faze her. Could reach her.

"You're Head Girl this year, aren't you?" Draco didn't know why he asked this when he knew full well she was. He had found out from Nott the past summer. It wasn't like him to waste his breath on pointless words, but he needed to see her attention on him. It was addictive.

"Yes, and you're Head Boy." Hermione answered without a question in her voice. She had already known, like he had. And he would bet that she had been dreading the idea of working so closely with him all summer.

Draco slowly nodded, and watched as the girl bit her lip in thought. He took advantage of her inattention, looking over the brunette. Her cinnamon curls had calmed down since their first year and were now contained in those shiny curls that stretched down to the middle of her back. She was about a head shorter than Draco, which forced her to tilt her head up to meet his gaze. A smattering of freckles dusted her delicate nose, and her caramel-colored eyes were framed with thick, dark lashes.

She really was very naturally pretty, but not in the aristocratic, fake way that Pansy was. She was real. Someone you would expect to see walking through the streets, laughing with friends. Draco couldn't remember a time she had worn makeup, even at the Yule Ball when she walked into the room on Krum's arm looking like a princess in her light pink gown. She never changed herself for anyone else, not even when her unrequited love, the dim-witted Weasley, refused to give her the time of day. It was something he had to admire her for, even if he'd never say it out loud.

She wrinkled her brows in confusion at Draco's intense expression. The blond carefully arranged his features into a schooled expression of arrogance.

"Look Granger, if you're done, I'm going to head to my dorm now."

Hermione raised a brow. "You mean our dorm. That's what I was thinking about. How are we going to…"

". . . coexist without killing each other?" Draco finished.

"No, of course that won't happen. I just meant that we should have an agreement in place. Like for instance, I would assume we wouldn't go into each other's sleeping quarters. And the restroom connected to our rooms is large, but shared. We would have to decide who showers in the morning and who would shower at night."

Draco shrugged. "I'll take morning. I have to shower to wake myself up."

Hermione pursed her lips and nodded in agreement. She much preferred unwinding in a nice bubble bath after a long day anyways. "Then that's sorted, at least. I should probably write this down on a parchment, for reference…"

Draco watched her trail off, as she was already lost in thought again. "Look, Granger. If you want to make a list of rules, that's fine, but I'm not wasting my time making lists that we could figure out as we go anyways. There will inevitably be arguments either way, you know."

Hermione brushed past him, not looking back as she said, "I will slide the parchment under your door when I have finished it. Goodnight, Malfoy."

-Hermione

She had to get away from him and escape to her library. The look in his silver eyes had caught her off guard. It was almost one of… admiration? She definitely was going to make a list of stipulations that would hopefully keep him in check. She had to, or she would go crazy thinking about living that close to the unpredictable boy.

When she had gotten to the library, she was pleasantly surprised to see Padma Patil there, leafing through a magazine.

"Hello, Padma! I thought you'd be in the Great Hall with the others," Hermione said, gingerly taking her seat next to the raven-haired beauty.

"Hi, Hermione. I had a bit of a headache from the trip and wanted to escape the noise for a bit." She set down the magazine, and the two chatted about their upcoming classes. When the conversation turned towards beauty and boys, though, Hermione started to wish she were alone. She loved Padma, but could care less about what mascara was the best, or which boys were single.

"Oh, Hermione, did you know Malfoy's single now? He dumped Pansy on the train ride here!" Padma smiled mischievously. "He might be a bad boy, but my God, it looks good on him."

Hermione rolled her eyes, wondering if Padma was one of the girls Draco had… slept with and left. "I was aware he was single. Pansy came into my compartment and yelled at me, as if it was my fault he dumped her."

Padma looked shocked for a moment, but quickly went back into gossip-mode. "Was it? Did he dump her for you? I always thought there was some unresolved tension between you, and he always did play the nastiest tricks on you, but I had assumed it was just because you were friends with Harry and Ron. Maybe instead it was because he's had a crush on you all this time! How romantic!"

Hermione leaned back, aghast at her friend's long-winded conclusion. "No! Most definitely the breakup was not for me! He was just awful to me all these years, not exactly romantic, and do you not recall when I broke his nose? It was not attraction that made me do that, you know."

Padma just grinned slyly. "The lady doth protest too much! Hermione, do you have any plans for this weekend? It's the Hogsmeade trip, and with the Hallow's Eve Ball in a few weeks, a group of us are going to go try out that new dress shop, Madame Leid's. It's supposed to be like Amin-reader. It knows exactly what would look best on you. Would you come?"

Hermione sighed, wary of the subject change. She didn't really want to go shopping, and had planned on going with the boys to The Leaky Cauldron for a laid back trip. "Who's all going?" She asked, not wanting to say no outright.

"Oh, just me, Ginny, Parvati, and Lavender. A small group, really. Please?"

Hermione looked at her friend's pleading brown eyes, and knew she wouldn't be able to say no. "Oh, all right. It'll be fun, right?"

Padma smiled. "Of course it will be! I'll be there after all," she said, flipping her long hair and batting her eyes sarcastically. Hermione couldn't help but laugh at her friend's antics. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, after all.

-Draco

The blond was deciding if he should take a dreamless sleep potion or not when the door banged open. He popped his head out of the door to his room to see Hermione walk in with a smile on her face and a pile of books stacked up to the bottom of her chin.

Why was she so damn happy? Draco would bet that she never had to debate with herself over taking a dreamless sleep potion or not. If only he knew that tucked into her desk drawer, next to her journal, was her own stash of droughts for the exact same reason. Or that within the pages of her journal were thoughts that could not possibly belong to someone as incandescently happy as Draco thought she was. No, Hermione had her own inner turmoil, she was just distracted from them at the moment by one of her friends, one of the many ropes that held her from slipping into the dark recesses of her thoughts.

Since Draco could not possibly know this, he instead stalked out of his room and over to the brunette.

"Granger, have you made your list yet? I would like you to add a rule about maintaining a relatively quiet volume when entering the common room. I heard you coming a mile away, and I'm trying to sleep."

Hermione jumped at the sound of his voice. She took in his messy blond hair and fitted t-shirt, obviously sleepwear. It was white, and he usually wore black. The light color made his skin look less pale, and the fabric strained against his muscles. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she jutted her chin out, placing her stack of books on the table in their shared common room. "If that was too loud for you, I apologize. I will try in the future to sound silent when normal people would make noise."

Draco smirked. "You're definitely not a normal person, darling."

Hermione's eyes widened for a fraction of a second at his use of the word 'darling,' but quickly recovered. "I'll add the rule of silence in the common room at night."

"And what about consequences?" Hermione noted Draco's sly expression, and chose her next words carefully.

"What do you mean? Consequences for what?"

Draco tilted his head to the side. "For breaking the rules. Without consequence, they aren't really rules as much as suggestions."

She seemed to contemplate this as she shrugged out of her robes. Underneath she was wearing her school skirt and fitted white, button-down blouse. She didn't slut up the outfit like most of the girls at school, but the knee-length skirt accentuated her slim waist, and her blouse was tight where the curve of her chest filled out the fabric. Even the fact that she didn't make it sexier made her more attractive. She didn't even try. "I think that consequences are a good idea, but they would have to be reasonable, and we couldn't tell anyone else about them. Too much judgement."

Draco agreed, though he was surprised she was open to keeping things from her best friends. He continued to watch her as she fluffled out her mass of long curls. "How about something like the person who broke the rules has to do a favor for the other?" He suggested. "Something like doing a homework assignment, or running letters to the owlery for the other."

Hermione nodded her consent, stifling a yawn. "That sounds reasonable. I might not finish until tomorrow with the list. I had planned to do it in the library, but I ran into Padma and got a little side-tracked."

Draco racked his mind. Was that the twin he fucked? Oh wait, he was with both of them that one night… he ran a hand through his hair. They were alright, a little too easy, but then that was everyone.

Hermione gasped, looking at him accusingly. "You… slept with her, didn't you?"

Draco lowered his gaze to hers, not missing the fact that she substituted his choice of words for the less vulgar version. "I don't lie, Granger. When I say you can ask your friends about me, I mean it. Let me guess… she already knew I was single? Hoping to be my rebound?"

Hermione ran back through their conversation. She had seemed interested in Draco. But she had wanted Hermione to be his rebound. Hermione felt her cheeks heat up as she remembered vehemently denying being attracted to the pure blood prince.

Draco watched the pink tinge creep deliciously up towards her face. Her chest was betraying how fast she was breathing, and he assumed he had been right in his assessment of Padma's actions.

"Goodnight, bookworm. Tell Padma I'm not interested if she asks about me again." With that, he turned on his heel and left her standing in the common room. He loved having the last word, and knowing Hermione would be thinking of him when she went to sleep made his victory that much sweeter.

When he got to his room, he didn't even realize that he bypassed the sleeping drought. Hermione had effectively distracted him.

Stretching out on his bed, he reviewed their conversation. He was excited to get the list of rules, because he intended to break each and every one. Just out of pure spite. He wasn't about to let the little witch order him about, after all.

A/N So no reviews yet? I promise I'm writing, but I need the reviews. I love hearing from you guys. Without it it's like I'm posting to empty space. Expect probably one more chapter this week. Review please!


	3. Chapter 3- Makeovers and Mischief

A/N Thank you for the reviews! Some people are following now, too, which makes me so happy! I will be posting a chapter every one to two weeks, depending on how busy I am. Love you all!

Hermione stretched, sun filtering through her white, gauzy curtains. Her dreams had once again been nightmares, filled with eyes that once held life, and bodies equally disturbing and dangerously interesting to the brunette.

She stretched her hand and feet as far apart as they would go. Her small height couldn't reach top to bottom of her bed, despite the fact she tried every morning when she woke up. She still had hope she would grow.

She had been living with Draco for exactly one week now, and he had been surprisingly amenable to the list of rules she had made for the time they shared quarters. The list was as followed:

Hermione & Draco's Agreed Upon Rules:

One must not enter the other's sleeping quarters.

Draco showers in the morning, Hermione at night. No exceptions.

If one enters the dorm later than 9:00 pm, then one must be silent.

The words 'mudblood' and 'death eater' are not to be spoken.

Neither is to mention each other's family.

When one wakes up earlier than 6:30 am, they must be silent.

A personal space of approximately 20 cm. is to be maintained.

Hermione thought that the list covered just about any problems they might have. She wanted to add a few more, but Draco was adamant that they keep the number at a reasonable size. Seven was a good number.

Excited for the first weekend Hogsmeade trip, Hermione changed into her usual jeans and jumper, heading to the Gryffindor dorm she used to share with the Patil twins, and Lavender. Ginny had taken her old bed, so the entire group she would be going with would be there. She missed her friends, and though she wasn't sure at first, she was now excited about the girl time she would be having. Besides, she could always slip away to her boys for a while if need be.

Draco was still sleeping, so she left quietly, glancing at his shut door on the way out. Living with him was not nearly as bad as she assumed it would be. It seemed he was more mature, less 'Daddy's Little Boy.' She couldn't of course, know that Draco only said he looked up to his Father everything as an attempt to gain the man's attention. Efforts he stopped after his third year when he caught Lucius cheating on his mother. That was when he stopped caring for the man's opinion. Stopped caring for the man who beat him senseless every night when he was back home because his grades were second best to a mudblood.

But Hermione couldn't possibly know this, so she just appreciated the change in the blond boy she shared a living space with, blissfully unaware of how broken his home life was. Is.

When Hermione got to the dorm, she whispered the password to the Fat Lady, who gave her a friendly smile. The brunette had always been a favorite of the portrait. Her friends were buzzing around the room, stressing about what to wear, if their hair should be up or down, and so on. Hermione sat on the edge of the bed that was previously hers, feeling comforted by the familiarity of the bed, though she knew that was a silly thing to be comforted by seeing how little time she actually spent in it. Really, she mostly slept at the library. Soft lights, books, research… that was her haven.

Ginny was the first to notice her, sighing in annoyance and pulling Hermione over to the closet.

"No way am I letting you wear the same jeans you have been wearing since like third year. You can borrow something of mine instead," the redhead said, flipping though some tops hanging in the closet.

"And we will have to do something about that hair," Lavender giggled, pulling out her straightening iron. "I wonder how long it will be straight! It's already almost to your waist curly."

Padma and Parvati also looked through their closets for Hermione, and soon they had picked out a new outfit for her.

"Guys, I like my jeans. And I hate makeup!" She screeched, not happy when Parvati came at her with a brush much too close to her eyes.

Padma sighed. "I know, but please? We finished with ourselves early, and we have never really seen you done up besides Yule Ball. Which you looked gorgeous at, of course," she added hastily. "We've kind of failed as friends for not giving you a makeover before now."

Hermione sighed. She had liked feeling pretty that night. And if it would make her friends happy… well, she would do anything for them, and they all were looking at her with hopeful expressions.

"Ok, ok. But don't overdo it! I want people to recognize me, you know," Hermione relinquished.

Lavender let out a squeal and began the process of straightening out Hermione's long curls.

Ginny showed her the outfit they had decided on. A uber short red skirt that Hermione immediately nixed, and a tight white t-shirt that was fairly low cut paired with a pair of heeled brown lace-up ankle boots. The girls whined when Hermione said no to the skirt, but she was adamant. There was no way she was going to walk around looking like a harlot.

Instead, they pulled out a skin-tight pair of black skinny jeans they said would look much better than her own frayed jeans when Hermione claimed they were basically the same thing. Jeans are jeans, right? Apparently, not all jeans are made equal.

When Hermione had changed, Lavender finally finished beating her cinnamon curls into submission, and Ginny had even gotten a bit of mascara and lipgloss on Hermione. Looking in the mirror, Hermione was surprised that she actually looked… pretty. Put together. It was a good feeling. Fingering her straight locks, she slipped on a pair of sunglasses on the way out, the one item she was wearing that was actually hers.

Walking out the door with the girls, Hermione got used to the outfit and forgot about it completely, as she usually forgot most of her problems when she was too busy laughing with her crazy friends.

The four met Harry and Ron at the gate. When they approached, the two boys immediately straightened up, and Harry ran a hand through his mass of black curls, peering up at Hermione from beneath his lashes with his big, green eyes. He had gotten contacts, and he was quite attractive without his glasses, though Hermione thought he was handsome both ways. Both Harry and Ron were handsome, in her opinion.

Though she still had feelings for Ron, but he had made it clear that they were just friends after the war. It had hurt, but they had both moved on, even if her heart still fluttered a bit each time she saw him. He was actually quite happy with Lavender, and she was glad for them, even if it still stung a bit sometimes.

"Hi… what was your name?" Harry said with a smile.

Hermione bit back a laugh. "Harry, it's me. Hermione? Ring a bell?"

Harry gaped, and Ron laughed so hard he doubled over. Harry turned bright red, looking at his old friend sheepishly. "Sorry, Mione. Didn't recognize you! Your hair is straight… and those clothes…" he trailed off, looking at Ginny, who had her brow raised and a smirk on her face.

"Were you flirting? In front of your girlfriend?" She asked, clearly amused and not angry.

"No! I mean, Hermione looks so different! I wasn't flirting, of course. I have more than I can handle with you. And have I told you how gorgeous you look today?" Harry replied, smirking as he pulled Ginny in for a kiss.

Ginny laughed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Of course I look gorgeous, I only spent an hour in the mirror! I was just joking with you, honey. Her new look is partly my doing, after all."

Harry grinned, wrapping an arm around the ginger's shoulder as the group walked towards Hogsmeade.

-Draco

What the fuck? That was all Draco could think as he spotted Granger across the street, looking in a store window with her friends. Her hair was straight and silky, reaching a little past her waist in sheets of cinnamon laced with gold. And those jeans… he groaned. They hid noting, and Granger's legs were long and lean. And her ass should not be allowed in those pants. She turned slightly towards him, mid-laugh. Fuck it all, her t-shirt was tight, showing off her waist, and the taste of her cleavage he could see was tantalizing. What the fuck.

He turned back to the window of the store he was currently looking in. It was that Weasley's place. The one who's brother had died. Draco wasn't on their side, didn't even like them, but still… he couldn't remember a time they had ever been apart. They were inseparable, and that's more than most people can say about their relationships. The only people Draco actually liked were Blaise and Theo, and he couldn't imagine being around them for more than a week. The blond wished he had someone he was that close with.

Feeling a long fingernail trail up his arm, Draco turned quickly. He hated being touched by most everyone. Pansy smiled in a way Draco assumed was meant to be provocative, judging by her outfit. She looked like a harlot, red lipstick, black, skin tight dress, silver heels… it was too much, and her perfume was nauseating.

"Hey Drakey-baby. So I know you were thinking about breaking things off, but I was hoping I could change your mind. Wanna me to come up to your Head Boy dorm later? It's so nice that you get your own space, no one to hear us," she said, crowding Draco in with each aggressive, perforating word.

Draco stood tall, and removed Pansy's wandering hands. "Don't touch me. I never said I was thinking about breaking things off-" Here, Pansy fluffed her hair and licked her lips, obviously quite pleased. "I said things are over. Now." Pansy's hand froze mid-fluff, and her jaw dropped.

"Drake, you don't mean that!" Pansy stated shrilly, hands reaching out.

Draco remained cold, impassive. "Actually, I do. If you will excuse me."

Pansy started after him. "Draco, I am spending the day with you. You will change your mind. You will." The pang of desperation in her voice was enough to get Draco to start into a fast walk.

Pansy kept up, trying to link her arm with his. It was pathetic, and Draco told her as much. She just held on tighter.

Draco finally shook her off, and broke into a bit of a run, turning corners fast, trying to ditch the stupid witch.

He finally lost her when he turned into a tight, dark alley. She went past, looking around and calling out his name. What the bloody hell was he thinking dating someone as mentally unstable as her?

Draco had just caught his breath when he saw Hermione walk out of the new dress shop with a parcel in hand. She waved goodbye to the group of girls she was with, and Draco shrunk into the shadows, watching as she looked both ways, then started down the alley where he was currently lurking in the shadows.

She licked her lips nervously, and he could hear her footsteps approaching. Why would Granger come here, and alone? Nothing good was back here in Diagon Alley. He would know. Oh, and shit, Pansy was back, once again walking down the street next to him. Granger was going to open her big loud mouth and ask him what he was doing back here, and then Pansy would hear and he'd have to run from his psycho ex again.

When she rounded his corner, Draco covered her mouth with his hand and pulled her deeper into the shadows with him. He couldn't see her expression, but he could feel her body tighten against his, the curves of her ass pressing against him as she reached for her wand. Draco knew exactly what the brunette was doing, however, and he pinned her wrists together against the wall, flipping her around to face him.

Granger gasped when she realized who it was, relaxing a bit. Then, realizing a decidedly dangerous looking Malfoy was pressing his body flush against hers in a darkened alley, she tensed all over again. She told herself it was fear that made that spark come to life inside of her chest, and not the fact that Draco's body felt deliciously dangerous against hers.

"Granger, shush! I don't relish the idea of running from Pansy again," he said, his annoyance clear in his tone. She pursed her lips, ready to tell him that she should hex him into oblivion for scaring her so badly, but then Pansy walked by the street next to them, a wild look in her clear blue eyes.

"Drakey-baby? We are meant to be, Slytherin purebloods," she ranted.

Draco looked down at the brunette, studying her frazzled expression. Pansy attacks Draco's senses, aggressive in everything from her pointy features to her cloying perfume. Granger wasn't like that. She smelt of flowers and books, her features were softly rounded, and her expressive eyes reminded Draco of melting chocolate and honey. Everything from her curves to her cinnamon hair was perfectly Granger, and Draco was strangely attracted to it. Not to the girl, just to the things that separated her from Pansy. The things that made her Hermione.

-Hermione

Pansy was obviously unhinged in some way, and it scared Hermione that she still held the fact that they were purebloods over any actual emotional connection. A chill raised goosebumps along her arms as she rearranged her bracelets for the hundredth time, making sure the word 'mudblood' that was carved into her skin was well hidden.

Hermione looked up to find Draco's steel-gray eyes fixed on hers. His body surrounded her, enveloped her senses in him. Pansy was gone, but the pair stayed fixed where they were, Hermione looking up at the Slytherin, their breathing heavy as they took each other in.

Draco's eyes were Hermione's favorite part about him, Hermione decided. Even when he was cool and impassive, she could catch a glimpse of his emotions like quicksilver. Draco was much taller than her, and though it used to make her feel beneath him, a mudblood, she now felt strangely powerful in this intimate position. If she even moved the slightest bit, she knew she would affect him. Her body pressed against his perfectly, her curves aligning naturally to his masculine frame.

Breathing deeply, she fisted his shirt and pushed him away from her. She briefly wondered what he would've done if instead of pushing him away, she had brought him closer… the heartbeat she could feel thrumming beneath her fingers was as erratic as her own. What was going on with her? Was she really so weak that she would consider kissing Malfoy?

"Your girlfriend is gone now, Malfoy. Not your smartest choice, but I guess if you're into the whole psycho thing," Granger said, ending the silence that was hanging between them, trapping them in the shadows.

Malfoy ran a hand through his already rumpled hair. "You can't insult my taste in partners when yours comes in the shape of a red-headed weasel, Granger," Draco drawled, thankful for the familiarity of their biting jabs.

Hermione straightened, picking up her parcel and heading towards the brightness of the street. "Ron and I aren't dating. If you recall, he's with Lavender now," she said, not bothering to look over her shoulder at the blond.

"Wow, so Weasley decided to upgrade. I'm sure they won't last long, if that's any consolation. You can have him when he's done having fun," Draco shot back, wanting her to turn.

He got his wish as she turned to face him, only to realize he was closer than she expected. Hermione almost turned right into his chest, but she caught herself and took a step back. "I'm fun, Malfoy! And for your information, I wouldn't take him back after Lavender anyways." Even as she said this, she questioned its truthfulness. Would she have taken him back after Lavender? Settled for safe and familiar? This conversation was much deeper than it should've been, anyway. She turned and hustled to the street, leaving Malfoy behind in the shadows to wonder what the self-doubt in her eyes had meant.

A/N Hi guys! I'm sorry this took a while. You can expect an average of 2-3 updates per month, so just be patient with me. While I am writing, I would love to hear suggestions and feedback for future chapters. What do you guys want more of? Also positivity is always awesome in reviews I get! Love you ;)


	4. Chapter 4- Light and Leaves

A/N Hi, disclaimer that I don't own JK Rowling or Harry Potter by the way. Also, I love writing this. Love it. It's so much fun, so if you have any suggestions, feel free to email me ;)

-Hermione

"Oi, Hermione, watch where you're going!" Ron laughed, steadying her with two firm hands on her shoulders. Hermione had been hurrying to her next class, also the one she dreaded most- potions. No matter how much she read, or how much she studied, she still got frazzled when it came to actually making the potions. To her, it made more sense on paper than in reality. And this year's syllabus had included some of the most complicated potions she had come across- Felix Felicis, Amortentia, Draught of the Living Death, Confusing Concoction, even Pepperup Potion. It was going to be one difficult year, and her mind had been on that rather than where she had been going.

"Sorry, Ron. I'm stressing before I've even walked into the Potions Classroom," Hermione furrowed her brow as she said this, and Ron could tell she was already back to worrying about the upcoming class.

"Hey, at least we'll be in class together," Ron said, taking her bag onto his shoulder as he walked with her towards the classroom. He would always do that when they were dating, something Hermione found charming.

"Gryffindors and Slytherins, unfortunately," Hermione responded absently.

Ron grimaced. "If we could handle them last year, we can handle them this year. At least Snape won't be teaching the class. It's… what's his name?"

Hermione turned to Ron, aghast. "How can you _not_ know our new professor's name? As we are walking to his class? It's Professor Clarke Lewis. He's supposed to be quite good."

Ron opened the door for Hermione with a sheepish grin, and they took their seats next to each other. "I knew, I just forgot." The pair shuffled their way into the cold, intimidating dungeon where potions class would be held.

The professor was turned toward the board, but Hermione was surprised to find he was quite young. He could only be a little older than they were! His brown hair curled to his ears, and when he turned, Hermione could see he had a spattering of freckles and pretty hazel eyes. He was quite attractive, and Hermione rolled her eyes at the girls that were giggling and whispering as they took their seats. At least he was better than Lockhart. That man had had quite an effect on the girls of the class.

Harry sat next to Lavender, who was glaring at Hermione, probably because Lavender herself had wanted to sit with Ron, and Draco sat behind Hermione with Astoria Greengrass. Stupid prat, of course he would sit behind her. She could feel his presence as clearly as she could feel one of her own limbs. She had always been able to do that. It used to be because she didn't want to walk unwittingly into his ruthless teasing, but now… now it was different. She wanted the teasing. Wanted the fights that sparked her anger, reminding the brunette that she still had a full range of emotion, even after the war had taken so much. She was still _alive_.

"Class, let's settle down. I have made a sample potion of some of the more complicated potions we will be making this year, and I would like you to get a chance to look at all of them, but first I have to deal with names and seating." Even his voice was sexy, but in a boyish, playful way. Not like Malfoy's gravelly voice that gave Hermione shivers. Not that she was comparing.

"I am Professor Clarke Lewis. I didn't go to Hogwarts, unfortunately, but I am well acquainted with the school and the houses. Now, I will occasionally switch up lab partners for some house unity, but the seats you have chosen are yours for the rest of the year."

Some people groaned, like Lavender, but most were happy. Hermione was, at least. Front row, and next to Ron, someone she trusted.

"I'm going to call you up in rows to come look at the potions. I have a little activity for you guys today, as well. Whoever wants to partake in a draw for the Felix Felicis should take a Veritaserum shot and allow the class to ask three questions of them for a little trust-building and house integration."

Hermione perked up along with the rest of her classmates. This was unexpected. She didn't trust the Slytherins, but for a chance at liquid luck? She had to do it. She slid out of her desk and into the line, the first person.

"What do you need luck for, Granger?" a velvety voice asked from behind her. She turned to find Malfoy looking at her intently. "Trying to get a certain redheaded prat back in bed with you? Oh wait, you never actually went to bed with him, did you?"

Hermione glared up at the blond, once again finding herself infuriated with him. "How do you know I didn't" she asked petulantly.

Malfoy laughed, a biting sound. "Darling, you reek of innocence. I doubt you've even been kissed. As for Ron, even he isn't dumb enough to leave you if you were shagging him."

Hermione lifted her head. "You're wrong. I have been kissed, Malfoy. And that's _not_ why Ron left, you git."

Malfoy reached down to brush the pad of his thumb across her mouth. Hermione stood, frozen. No one was paying attention to the pair since each student was chatting about whether or not they should risk three truthful responses for a chance at luck. Hermione and Draco were in their own little world. Hermione swore she could feel each swirl of his thumbprint against her lips, electrifying her nerves.

"You misunderstood me, Granger. When I said never been kissed, I didn't mean you've never engaged in the juvenile act of pressing your lips into someone else's." His voice dripped with disgust, but still sounded hot as hell. "I meant you've never been set on fire, deprived of any thought of oxygen because his lips were all you could think about, all you wanted." Draco smirked and stepped back as he watched the blush he was looking for stain her skin an enticing shade of pink.

"I-"

"Hermione! Are you actually going to do it?" Harry asked, oblivious to Malfoy's presence.

"Harry- I- Yes. I want the chance to try out the potion."

Harry smiled. "I think I'm going to sit this one out, as I've already had my fair share of liquid luck. I'll try to be one of your questions."

"Thanks, Harry." Hermione shook out her curls, clearing her head and refusing to look at a certain silver-eyed boy who was still smirking. She turned towards Professor Lewis. He was leaning against his desk, his glasses slightly askew.

"It's Hermione, right?" Professor Lewis asked, handing her the shot.

"Yes. It's very nice to meet you, Professor Lewis. I look forward to your class," Hermione said shyly. He _was_ extremely attractive, after all, and Hermione was a normal teenage girl in that regard. Draco scoffed behind her, and she fought the urge to turn and punch him. She drank the vial of veritaserum he handed her as quickly as possible.

"I've heard great things about you from the other professors. Congratulations on Head Girl. I understand that's a big deal here at Hogwarts."

The Veritaserum already kicking in, Hermione answered honestly, her excitement obvious. "It is! I'm so happy I was chosen."

Professor Lewis laughed. "It's good to hear such enthusiasm from students."

She nodded brightly. "Did you really make all these potions perfectly yourself? That's quite impressive. I don't think I've ever brewed Amortentia correctly. I've always wondered what it would smell like if I ever got it right."

The professor smiled, offering her a vial of Amortentia. "Would you like to smell it?"

Hermione paused, but her curiosity won out. She gingerly took the vial, and wafted it towards her nose. She breathed in freshly cut grass, apples, and… cologne? Hmm, it smelled familiar to the witch, but she couldn't quite place it. "Thank you, now I will have an accurate comparison for when we brew it during class."

Lewis took the vial back and set it down. "No problem. Head up to the front and we will have your questions asked while I give the shots to the rest of the line."

Hermione went to the front of the classroom and smoothed her robes down, nervous about this.

Professor Lewis handed the next vial to Malfoy as he asked the class to raise their hands for their questions. Harry's shot up like he promised, and Professor Lewis called on him.

"How old are you?" Harry asked, and everyone groaned at his stupid question, but Hermione was grateful. "Seventeen years old."

The class laughed and Professor Lewis called on Astoria Greengrass next. "Do you like sharing a dorm with Draco?" Astoria had one eyebrow raised defiantly, daring Granger to answer.

"I don't mind it, though it's annoying when he breaks our rules. We fight a lot, but usually I enjoy it." Hermione answered truthfully, and was surprised to find she really didn't' mind it. The rest of the class looked equally surprised, but Draco just smirked and raised his hand. Lewis called on him, and Hermione wanted to sink through the floor. He was going to ask her something horrible, she just knew it.

"What did the Amortentia smell like to you?" He looked her right in the eye, dangerous curiosity highlighted in the silver pools staring through her. He was daring her to answer, the git!

Hermione swallowed. "I- I smelt freshly cut grass, um, apples, and- and cologne." She studied Draco as his cool exterior dropped for a few moments. He looked confused, and strangely pleased. His eyes glinted with victory, which confused Hermione. She shuffled back to her seat, and buried her head into her folded arms as Draco took to the front.

He looked annoyed, even uncomfortable. He didn't do the whole sharing thing, but he was about to allow three truths to be pried from him. And damn it all if Hermione wasn't going to use this opportunity to get sme answers. Astoria asked him if he liked potions class, and he said it was his favorite. Another person asked him if he liked being a Slytherin.

"Is it possible to dislike something that's been a part of your life since birth? It's like disliking yourself." Hermione wanted to counter that what he said wasn't really a response, but she wanted to ask her own question more. When Lewis called on her, the honest question she had spilled out. Maybe it was the last of the Veritaserum, or maybe it was the fact that she had to know. Either way, once she had said it, the whole class broke out in whispers.

"Has your hatred for me always been because I'm a mudblood?"

The class went dead silent, looking at Draco expectantly. Lewis sat back in his chair, an eyebrow raised, waiting with everyone else to see what Draco would say.

"No, Hermione. The reason I hated you was more selfish than that."

Hermione stared, stunned. Draco's gaze burned through her, into her, with such scrutiny the rest of the class held their breath, certain one or both students would burst into flame. Hermione looked away first, mind racing with questions. What selfish reasons could he have for hating her? She had never done anything to personally affront him, so what?

"Um, well, thank you for your honesty. Next student?" Professor Lewis asked, his eyes trained on the visibly shaking brunette. Malfoy glared daggers at the professor before taking his seat.

-Malfoy

Malfoy watched as the professor went to Hermione, reaching a hand out before thinking better of it and walking by. Draco knew Hermione was beautiful and smart, but he hated the fact that the professor was obviously noticing as well. Her brain dead friends certainly didn't notice it, and that's how Draco liked it.

To him, Hermione was still the innocent, bushy-haired, buck-toothed girl inside. The sweet little girl that had lent a blond little boy a quill when he didn't have one, and explained Hogwarts, A History to him when they had a pop quiz on it during the first week of school. That was before he had to ruin it all. He felt horrible, but he was eleven, and his mother told him his father would kill him without a second thought if he was friends with her. So Draco had been relentlessly cruel. He pushed her away to save himself, even though she was the closest thing to a friend he had ever had, which was sad since the short friendly relationship lasted all of two weeks before he became a prat to protect his own life.

As Draco got older, he regretted the decision to save himself more and more. He was always mean to her, but he started noticing things. Like how her curls calmed down, and she would absently tug on the bottoms and let them spring back into their tight spirals. Or how absolutely perfect her tiny, cramped handwriting was. She could fit an alarming amount of words on one piece of parchment. Or how she hummed softly to herself when she was concentrating.

His favorite thing about Hermione was how easily he could read her emotions. He didn't know if it was because he had studied her for so long, or if it was because she wore her emotions so plainly, but he could read Hermione Jean Granger like one of the books she loves so much.

And now Lewis was looking at her. And Draco would be damned before he let that prat have Hermione. Clarke Lewis would be perfect for Hermione, and she would fall for him. He was older, obviously intelligent, and more mature than Ron. But Draco couldn't take it if Hermione started screwing their professor. Not when he was living in the same dorm with her, forced to see her everyday. He couldn't watch her be so happy, so in love, when he still felt like an empty shell whenever he wasn't fighting with her. He was too selfish, always had been, always will be.

-Hermione

Walking back to the dorms, Hermione was mentally planning out how she was going to go through her homework assignments. She walked through the courtyard outside, heading up to her room. It was a cool, crisp fall day, but there was sunlight speckling the concrete, highlighting the lone girl humming softly to herself.

Whispering the password to Godric Gryffindor, the person in their dorm's portrait, she swung the door open and walked in to see Draco standing with one hand leaning on the window pane, looking out at the perfect fall view. Without turning, he ran a hand through his hair, directing his question at the air around him, not necessarily Hermione.

"Don't you love days like this? The leaves look so beautiful, all those colors… but they're all just representations of the different stages of decay. Their beauty wouldn't be possible without their inevitable death."

Hermione tilted her head, considering Draco's question as she set her bookbag and robe on the table, crossing her arms over her button up shirt. "That's a morbid way of thinking about it. I always used to think of it like the leaves were making the world as colorful as possible to make up for all the white to come in winter."

Draco turned, and unreadable expression in his eyes. To Hermione, he looked lost. "How can you think like that? You have lost as much as I have, maybe more, yet you still see beauty. How?" Hermione could tell he wasn't asking out of random curiosity. There was a desperate gleam to his eyes, something she had felt herself before. She sighed, curling into the couch with her book.

"The war has changed my outlook, sure, but during the day it's easier to convince myself that I'm happy and whole. It's only at night when I can't seem to keep out reality long enough to fall asleep." Hermione sucked in a breath, wanting to take back her too truthful words. They hung in the air, an admission of guilt, though Hermione wasn't she what she felt guilty of.

"I have the same problem." Draco had turned back to the window, and the words were whispered so softly Hermione could have sworn she had imagined them. But she hadn't. She could tell by the tense way Draco stood as he glared out the window at the swirling leaves. Hermione stared, engrossed at the sight of the usually so composed Malfoy looking so lost.

She couldn't imagine what he was going through, and that made her mad. She had never thought about the other side of the war, had just viewed them as evil and bigoted. After all, his family were the ones who carved the word 'mudblood' into her skin, branding her. But watching Draco run his hand through his normally impeccable hair was making her think that maybe it wasn't so black and white. Maybe the other side was more like the leaves whirling around outside, in different stages of decay, different shades of their death. Different levels of comprehension and willingness and evil.

"Draco-" Hermione started.

"Don't, Granger. I'm not someone to pity, or one of your house elves you can force into the light. I am made of shadows. You can't reach a shadow, no matter how hard you try. I'll always consist of darkness."

Hermione abruptly stood up from the couch, watching as Malfoy stalked into his room. That was the first time they had had a conversation that went deeper than their usual games, and it made Hermione confused. There was more to Draco than she had thought, and what she wanted to do most was barge into his room and force him to look at her, listen to her. She didn't want him to feel hopeless, like he was a shadow of a person. He was more, and Hermione wanted to know more.

Curling back into the couch, she tucked a soft throw around herself, leafing through her book to find her page as she looked outside at the early autumn evening. Light chased away shadows, and if she was half the Princess of Light the papers claimed she was, then she could certainly chase Draco's shadows away so she could see the man underneath.

A/N Sorry it's been a while- this chapter was actually quite difficult to write. It's hard to write deeper, emotional scenes when I want to keep things more light and fun, but I think they're necessary for the romance and individual progression. Keep reviewing! It helps a lot! Love you all ;)


	5. Chapter 5- Libraries and Liabilities

A/N Merry Christmas! There is something everyone can be grateful for, so hold on to that. Love you all and thank you for the reviews! REVIEW MORE ;) please.

Hermione was in the library. It was a Saturday, and she had finished all her homework. She was currently trying to read through a book about proper wizard greetings from around the world for a class she had to take for her desired profession.

Hermione wanted more than anything to work for the ministry. Wizarding politics intrigued her, all the little pieces working behind closed doors to make the bigger things happen. She wanted power behind closed doors, to be an unseen force. She wanted to make sure the level of corruption Voldemort had caused never happened again.

The only problem was, Malfoy was distracting her. And he wasn't even in the room.

She was trying to forget about Malfoy and putting her efforts into her book, something that hadn't worked so far. Unfortunately, she knew exactly where he was, and she knew he was alone. She could find him and talk to him, try to get some clarity about his response while on veritaserum. He said his reasons for hating her had been selfish, not because of her blood. How could hating her be selfish? Hermione had thought about it from every possible angle, and there's no way that could be true, yet Draco had said it under the influence of veritaserum, so it had to be. The brunette hated not having answers.

Hermione pulled her ponytail out of her hair and ran her hands through the curls she had released, frustrated that her train of thoughts had once again stopped on Malfoy. What did she care if he was the most confusing boy she had ever met? That's right; she didn't. Trying to read the same sentence over again for the twentieth time, she didn't notice the person behind her until he had picked up her book to read for himself.

"Tsk tsk, Hermione. This isn't for class, is it? I thought we had all of ours together," Malfoy said from behind her chair, leaning over one of her shoulders. She shivered at his closeness, his scent making her want to close her eyes and let down the so carefully constructed wall between her and the rest of the world.

"Give me that back!" Hermione said, snatching her book back and carefully placing the bookmark next to the spine, shutting the cover. "Didn't know you paid that much attention to my schedule, Draco, but you would be wrong. I take extra class on Mondays that you don't." She flipped her honeyed eyes over her shoulder, her gaze trailing down Draco. The blond clenched his jaw, wanting to punish her for making him think such dirty thoughts about the Princess of Light, the untarnished war heroine. All Draco could think of when she was near was making her pay for what she was doing to him.

"Now who's paying attention?" Draco responded with a smirk, flipping his gaze over the girl slowly, making her squirm. "What are the extra classes for?"

Hermione tilted her head to the side. This had to be the first time he had asked her anything without a clearly nasty motive. "Well, it's for Wizarding Relations. I want to work in the Ministry," Hermione admitted hesitantly. Draco leaned over her, his hand on the back of her chair, tilting it back slightly so she was forced to look up at him.

"Why would you want to work for the Ministry? Don't get enough attention as the Princess of Light?" Draco questioned, winding a curl around his knuckles.

Hermione shivered. What was he doing to her? "I wouldn't want to be a public face, just more behind the scenes. I hate being stared at." At this Draco's eyebrow raised in surprise. He would never have guessed she disliked public attention with how gracefully she handled it. "And the ministry needs help fighting against corruption. During the war it was horrible, and I just want…" Hermione stopped, suddenly acutely aware that she was about to tell Draco about ambitions she had never told even Ron or Harry.

His lips curved into a smirk. He pulled gently on the hair that was still tightly wound around his fingers, forcing her eyes back to him. "What do you want, Hermione?" He leaned down, breath ghosting over her skin. He suppressed a groan as he watched her blush slowly, spreading to her cheeks. Her eyes glimmered with what Draco knew was lust. He had seen it many, many times before, but he never expected to see it on Hermione's features, and he sucked in a breath.

"Draco, let me go. Now." Hermione's voice wavered, and Draco wondered what would happen if he just closed the distance… but he couldn't. Because then the game would be over, and she would never look him in the eyes again.

Hermione flicked her tongue over her lips, never breaking eye contact with Draco as he slowly unwound her hair from his fingers, releasing her. What the hell was wrong with her? She didn't like Malfoy, she liked Ron. Ron was her unrequited crush, not the infuriating Slytherin looking down at her with molten silver eyes.

Hermione stood up quickly, needing to get out. She stuffed her book in her bag, and practically ran out of the library, her safe haven turned… well, she didn't know what just happened. But she knew she felt far from safe and comfortable when Draco looked at her.

—Draco

Draco stared at the door Hermione had just ran out of like a bat out of hell. Flopping down in the seat she had just left vacant, Draco ran his hands through his hair, rubbing his face like he could erase her from his mind if he pressed hard enough.

Fuck. She was… more than he could handle. He hadn't admitted it until now, but there was no way he could control their relationship, and that scared him.

Draco had control over everything in his life. When he dated Pansy, she did whatever he said, like the pathetic little puppy she was. Hermione was just… she was just so damn unpredictable. Uncontrollable. When he expected flashing anger and verbal sparring, he got barely concealed lust, for _him_ , of all people. He saw it in her eyes, in the way she responded to him when he hadn't even touched her.

The Princess of Light may not admit it, but she fucking wanted him as much as he wanted her, and that was more unexpected than anything she could have thrown at him.

Draco stayed at the library for another hour, finishing his homework. He needed to cool down before going back to the dorms they shared. How the fuck was he supposed to sleep tonight now?

Draco threw his book angrily in his bag, heading to the Slytherin common room instead of straight to his quarters. He needed to see someone else before seeing her again, and there were plenty of choices in his House common room.

The chill of the dungeon welcomed him back like an old memory. The cold never bothered him anymore, in fact, it was a welcome change from the heat in the library. Breathing deeply, Draco reminded himself that he was as stony and cold as the concrete walls surrounding him. It's how he survived, and it's how he maintains control. Hermione could not change that.

He stormed into the room, surveying the couches with Slytherin girls and boys hanging out, doing homework, flirting not-so-subtly. His eyes searched the room, latched onto a girl with curly dark hair and a smile that wasn't so innocent. Draco walked over, silver eyes flashing and hair a mess. He was definitely worthy of the title Slytherin Prince.

Every girl's eyes followed him around the room, hoping he would walk over to them. His lean, muscular frame, strong jaw, and light stubble made him very popular with the ladies. It wasn't just his looks either- it was _him_. His careless attitude, his smooth charm, his untouchable status. It didn't hurt that he was a billionaire, either.

He approached the girl, smirking as he effectively cut her off from her friends by positioning her between his long frame and the wall behind her.

"I don't think I know your name," Draco murmured, barely bothering to look interested. He knew she would do whatever he wanted her to do anyway. Everything was too easy. Every _one_ was too easy.

The girl giggled obnoxiously, the sound grating Draco's ears. "I'm Ravyn. I already know who you are, Malfoy."

Draco flipped his eyes over her short black skirt and tight dark green sweater, taking his time responding. "Good, then we aren't strangers. I thought you might want to take a walk with me for a bit."

Ravyn giggled again, fluttering her eyelashes at him. "I'd love to. Lead the way, Malfoy."

Draco walked off towards a more unused hallway he knew had ample coverage for what he wanted to do. He didn't bother to look back to see if Ravyn had followed him- he knew she had.

When they got to a turn in the hall that had a tapestry covering the corner, Draco stopped and turned back to find that Ravyn had moved behind the tapestry already, leaving her lacy black panties on the hall floor. Draco kicked them to the side, following the girl behind the tapestry.

He slipped his hands under her sweater, kissing her almost painfully hard. She didn't mind. Slipping the sweater over her head, she sunk to her knees in front of Draco.

Leaning his head against the wall behind him, Draco closed his eyes. His mind immediately conjured up the image of Hermione in the library, face flushed, eyes simmering, mouth slightly open… Draco wound Ravyn's hair around his hand, pulling like he did Hermione's curls in the library. Hermione's hair was softer. Draco thought about Hermione breathing next to him, crushed against him in the alleyway in Hogsmeade. Her body grinding against his as she struggled, before relaxing into him, breath hot on his chest.

Ravyn wasn't Hermione.

He thought about those jeans and that tight, white shirt Hermione had worn with her hair straight. She had looked so bloody perfect, laughing with her friends. She was a fucking angel.

Draco groaned, losing it, gasping out Hermione's name like a prayer.

Ravyn stood up, eyes wide with shock. "Did you just say another girl's name? Who the fuck did you just call out for?"

Draco zipped up his pants, licking his lips. What the fuck had he just done? Did he actually just say Hermione's fucking name?

"You didn't hear? Too bad, would've been good gossip," Draco said coolly, shouldering past the shocked girl into the hallway, grabbing his bag in the common room.

Blaise approached Draco cautiously, noting Draco's off-balance look. "Hey, man. You good? How was the hookup?"

Draco cut his eyes to Blaise's cold brown ones. "I fucking said another girl's name."

Blaise's eyes widened. "Fuck man, I thought you never really liked Pansy, but she'd definitely take you back if you…" Blaise studied his best friend of more than ten years. "It wasn't Pansy. Who was it, then?"

Draco looked torured, steely eyes cold and confused. He dragged Blaise out into the hall, away from prying eyes. "Fucking hell…" Draco said, a haunted look in his eyes. "I can't do it, Blaise. She's the one girl I _really_ can't have. She's too good. I'll destroy her. She'll destroy _me_."

Blaise closed his mouth. "Hermione Granger." Draco didn't deny it, just stared past Blaise with a blank look on his face.

"Bloody hell, did she hear you? When you said…"

Draco shook his head, jaw locked tightly, not trusting himself too speak.

"I don't know what you're going to do, man, but you can't. You're right, you can't have her. Not after everything that's happened."

Draco shouldered past Blaise, heading back to the room he shared with Hermione Jean Granger.

A/N Sorry! I've been super busy, but I have some ideas for the next couple of chapters, so keep reading! ;)


	6. Chapter 6- Flirting and Fire

A/N Sorry- the last chapter wouldn't let me publish it for some reason. I don't know if it was an error with fanfition or just my wifi, but I will now upload a few for you all at once!

Hermione placed the bookmark along the spine of her book, shutting it softly when she heard Draco barging in the room. A quick glance at the clock revealed that it was 10:00 PM- which meant he was breaking one of their seven rules.

Slipping out of bed, Hermione tiptoed into the kitchen. Draco was standing at the sink looking more disheveled than usual. His back was turned towards her, and Hermione took the opportunity to admire how his uniform fit his tall frame. His hair was getting a bit long, she noticed. It almost dusted his collar in the straight, pale blond mess that he had long since stopped combing back.

"Draco, it's late. Be a little quieter coming in, please," Hermione said, teasing him with one of his own pet peeves. .

"Hermione, you sound like a storm of elephants when you enter the room. I doubt I could've compared." Draco turned towards the girl, expecting a school uniform. He didn't expect her hair to be hanging in damp curls, fresh from her nightly shower, as per the rules. She also was wearing a thin white tank top and a pair of what looked like men's boxer briefs. "Granger, what the fuck are you wearing?" Draco asked, cruel amusement tinging his voice as her doe eyes looked up at him.

"Oh, um…" Hermione looked down at herself, blushing bright red. "I forgot. It's just a pair of Ron's old boxers. When we went camping I had forgotten pajamas and, well…" Hermione trailed off, not understanding why she felt the need to explain herself to Malfoy. She felt even more confused when she noticed his eyes darken, the silver flashing.

"You've fucked him? I thought you were the virgin type," Draco spat out before he could stop himself. The malice in his voice surprised even him and Hermione took a step back.

"N-no. I've never… I mean, what's it to you?" Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, anger flashing in her honey colored eyes now. Why should she have to defend herself? She advanced upon Malfoy, who looked as surprised as she felt. "You don't have a say, and I don't have to explain myself to you!" Hermione exclaimed, prodding a finger into his chest and trying to ignore how muscular it felt beneath his collared shirt.

Draco flipped Hermione against the wall, grabbing the hand she had poked him with. "I know you've never done anything, shouldn't have doubted it. Pure little Gryffindor you are, must be why he left you. No passion, no sex appeal. At least Lavender isn't a frigid-" Draco was cut off when Hermione wrestled her hands free of him, slapping him across the face.

Draco moved him jaw, surprised at how hard the little Gryffindor could slap. He shouldn't have been surprised, though. She almost broke his nose that one time…

Hermione gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. "I-I'm sorry, I-" The blond grabbed both her wrists in one hand, pinning them above her head. His eyes flashed, boring into Hermione's brown ones like silver knives. They slowly raked over her body, stopping on her legs.

"That's the last time you hit me, Granger." Hermione barely trusted herself to breathe, wide eyes taking in Draco's form. He ran his free hand over one of her thighs, slipping her leg over his waist so she was standing on one tiptoe. She felt every bit of him, every muscle, every hard contour pressing into her body, and she thought 'I have never been this close with anyone,' which was a stupid thought. She had kissed Ron, and been closer with him than this… it was just the tension. She could feel it like a tangible thing, winding around the two of them and pressing them together, pulling at her.

Draco felt it too, that electric buzz that he always felt with her. Only her. He forced himself away from her, slowly peeling his body from her soft, drugging curves. Usually he could hide it around her, but after coming on her name in the hallway with Rachel, Raquelle, whatever her name was… it was different. He wanted the real thing much more than he should.

"Fucking hell, Hermione," Draco whispered under her breath, watching the confused Gryffindor stand up on unsteady legs. Legs that were long and tan and felt entirely too good wrapped around his waist. He couldn't mess her up. She was too pure, too untarnished.

"Draco, I-" Hermione tried to say, but stopped when she saw how cold Draco's eyes were. How hatred filled and disgusted his gaze was. She brushed past him, practically running to her room and slamming the door behind her, sinking into the floor, knees pulled up to her chest.

Outside, she heard Draco's door slam as well. Going over to her dresser, she pulled out her journal.

 _Is it wrong to think that the sides are blurred? I used to think of the sides of the war as black and white, with no gray area. Now, I'm not so sure. How badly hurt was the other side? They lost people, too. The war tore apart their families, their dreams, their childhoods… How is it any different? Is the hatred between the two remaining sides going to lead to the next great war? I don't want that to happen, but I have to take responsibility for my part of stopping that before pointing the finger at everyone else. I need to learn how to forgive them before I can expect them to forgive me…_

Dropping her pen and notebook back into her dresser drawer, she hesitated above the sleeping draught nestled beside her socks.

Closing her eyes, Hermione grabbed the bottle and downed it in one go, dropping the empty bottle next to her bed and collapsing on the cool sheets, not bothering to put a blanket over herself.

Draco angrily paced his floor, trying to forget about the witch one thin wall away. How did she make him lose control? One glance at him with those fiery eyes and he had her pinned against the wall. He needed to keep his cool, but that was impossible with that gorgeous, infuriating, brilliant witch around.

He should teach her a lesson, Draco thought, pressing one hand against the heat he felt on his cheek from her slap. He had to say, that was unexpected. He definitely deserved it, he mused, thinking back on his words. He had called her a passionless, icey, sexless prude. It was the sight of her in those damn boxers. Why the fuck Ron Weasley broke up with her, he would never be able to imagine. She still wore his boxers to bed, for Merlin's sake! She obviously still cared… and that's when he got a most Slytherin idea.

Storming over to her bedroom, he didn't bother knocking. He already knew how she looked in her little pajamas, after all. Pushing the door open, he took in the sleeping witch. She was turned facing away from him on top of her covers, her legs sprawled out, her ass looking so bloody tempting in those little boxers he knew were Ron's. Unbidden thoughts of him fucking the brunette while she was wearing the weasel's boxers made Draco smirk as he approached the bed, ready to shake her awake so she could heart his plan.

Before he could touch her, he noticed the bottled lying on the floor next to the bed. Picking it up, he smelled the top of it, and instantly recognized the scent from many sleepless nights of his own. It was a dreamless sleeping draught.

Why the fuck would the perfect, Gryffindor princess, need a sleeping draught to chase away nightmares and sleepless nights?

Draco stared at the girl through fresh eyes. Maybe she wasn't so perfect. Maybe he didn't have to worry about breaking her so much. Maybe she'll go for his absolutely insane plan to get a taste of her while still being in control.

He sighed, studying the sleeping girl. He brushed a curl off of her shoulder, sucking in a breath when he saw the spattering of chocolate freckles along her shoulders. It was like someone grated chocolate over her shoulders.

She smelled divine, and Draco covered her gently with her blankets. She didn't stir too much, the influence of the draught, Draco concluded. She did wrap her hands around his, bringing his hand under her cheek. The blond gently pried his hand away from her smooth cheek. He traced his fingers over her face, knowing she wouldn't wake up. The pads of his fingers pressed into her lips, pulling the lower one down to expose her white teeth.

He almost groaned. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't she be this pliant awake? He would never have to worry about losing control. But then, he wouldn't have the fire he craved either. The spark she ignited with just one look, one snarky comment. It really wasn't fair.

He thought back to their potions class. She smelled him in the amortentia. It had to be him, even if she didn't exactly love him. It was the same way with him. He didn't, couldn't, love her, but he loved the feelings he got when he was around her. It was the only time he felt alive.

Tucking her gently into the covers, he absentmindedly wrapped his fist in her damp curls. He pulled softly, forcing her head to turn in his direction. He wasn't the type to need a girl as much as he needed Hermione. He wasn't lying when he said his reasons for hating her were more selfish than his father's prejudice against her blood. He hated her because she made him lose control. She made him want to own her, and hide her from the rest of the world. She was the one and only girl he knew would never say yes to him. Every other girl he had ever met he knew he could have. They wanted his body, his money, his status. Everyone wanted something, and with a little effort, he could have any girl he wanted. Except for her.

Hermione Jean Granger wasn't impressed with his status in the wizarding world. She wasn't impressed with his money, no matter how much he had flaunted it in front of her. His body wasn't enough to get her to fuck him. Fighting, and the intelligence it required to hold his own against Hermione, did interest her. But it still wasn't enough. He would have to really put effort in if he wanted her to want him, but that would mean a relationship, and that's something he didn't do. He couldn't be in a relationship with her that was more than physical, because that would mean he really wasn't in control. Even knowing this, he couldn't stay away.

So instead of forcing himself out of her room like he should, he dragged his shirt off over his head and slipped under the covers with the brunette. She turned into him, like she was waiting for him, sighing contentedly. She nestled her head under his arm, and threw one leg over him. Stifling a gasp, Draco tried to relax. Her body pressed against him was almost too much. He felt her breasts against his bare chest with each breath she took. Her hair was splayed over his arm, curls smelling like roses and fresh air, like when he was flying over the quidditch field on his broom through a perfect blue sky.

The last thing he remembered was her breath tickling his chest as his eyes drifted shut on their own accord, something that hadn't happened since before the war…

—

Hermione yawned as she stretched after one of the best sleeps in her life. She turned over, hugging her pillow closer to her chest. Except- were her pillows usually human shaped and delicious smelling? Her eyes popped open, taking in the sleeping blond next to her. What in Merlin's name was going on? She sat up quickly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Jesus, Hermione. Don't look so surprised, it was bound to happen sooner or later," Draco said, smirking as he lazily took in morning Hermione, drenched in golden sunlight streaming in through the window, curls spilling over her shoulders. She looked utterly perplexed. "Don't worry, darling," he said, drawing out the last word. "I was gentle. And you loved it."

Hermione caught on to what he was saying and turned more red than he had ever seen her. With the tank top, he could tell that the blush spread down her chest. "You- I- We didn't-"

"No, Princess, we didn't I was going o tell you about my genius idea, but you were already asleep."

She raised an eyebrow, ice dripping in her tone. "So you decided to sleep in my bed?"

Draco shrugged noncommittally. "Anyways, now that you're up, you have to hear my idea."

Hermione caught a glimpse of the clock next to Malfoy, and her eyes widened. "Draco, it's nine! We are going to be late to Potions!"

"It is not-" Draco turned to the clock. "Wow. We overslept. You must've really-"

Hermione cut her gaze to the shirtless blond. "Don't even THINK about finishing that thought, Draco."

Draco smirked, watching as the brunette hopped around her room, pulling her skirt on over the boxers and slipping out of them after, so Malfoy couldn't see anything. She then pulled out a pair of pink and white panties, slipping them over her legs and throwing her school shirt on over the tank top. Throwing her hair into a ponytail while she searched for her socks, she had finished getting ready in approximately two minutes.

"Let's go, Draco! What're you staring at? We are gonna be late!"

Draco shook his head slowly, grabbed his shirt and pants from the night before, slipping them back on and grabbing his book bag on the way out after Hermione. Every other female he knew took at least twenty minutes in the morning. She took two.

When they got to Potions, they were late. Hermione murmured an apology and took her seat next to Ron, sinking low in her chair. Draco saw the stares of their classmates, wondering why on Earth the two were late and disheveled together. He took his seat behind Hermione with Blaise, ignoring his friend's questioning glance.

Ron and Hermione were in the middle of a heated conversation. Hermione was talking animatedly with her hands, trying to explain why she had come in late with the snake she shared rooms with.

Draco leaned forward between the two, tucking a stray curl behind Hermione's ear. "Your bed is much more comfortable than mine. Mind if I stay again tonight?" He smirked as he watched both the weasel and Hermione turn bright red, and the heated discussion continued as he leaned back out of harm's way. Hermione HAD physically hurt him twice now. He wanted to be out of range of her fists.

After class had let out, Hermione stayed behind, obviously to talk to Draco. Soon only the professor and Malfoy and Hermione remained in the room.

"Draco I cannot believe you!" Hermione fumed. "Why would you do that?"

Malfoy smirked. "That was my plan, Hermione. Make Ronniekins jealous and maybe you have a chance at getting him back."

Hermione glared at him. "And what, you think I should use YOU to make him jealous? Why? So you and your friends can laugh at me behind my back? I don't think so."

Draco cornered Hermione against her desk, looking down into her golden brown eyes. "I promise I won't laugh. I think this could actually be a learning experience for you, Miss Princess of Purity."

Hermione blushed scarlet, fury propelling her actions. "You have some nerve, Malfoy" she said icily. "But maybe your idea isn't half bad. I COULD use some practice." She smiled coolly, unbuttoning her blouse so the top of her lacy, light pink bra was visible. As she started leaning towards him, and Malfoy thought his plan would work, she brushed past him, walking purposefully towards Professor Lewis.

The blond watched in bitter amusement as she shook out her curls from their ponytail, approaching the sexy, young professor.

Hermione was so mad she could barely see straight, let alone remember she had no idea how to flirt or look sexy. That all kinda flew out the window when Draco made her feel like a cheap, pining little girl in need of his TEACHING. The nerve that bloody git had.

She stopped in front of the professor watching as he noticed her cleavage. "Hi, Professor Lewis. I just wanted to apologize for being late. I really never oversleep. She ran a hand along her curls, hooking a finger under her skirt and allowing both the professor and Malfoy to see more of her legs. She could feel Malfoy's eyes burning into the back of her head.

The professor smiled. "It's not a problem. I know it won't happen again, right?" Hermione nodded with a smile, fluttering her eyelashes up at him. "You can call me Clarke, by the way. It feels weird to be called Professor Lewis when I'm only a few years older than you," he said, running his eyes along Hermione's body.

"Thanks so much. I'll see you tomorrow on time. Maybe even early, to make up for today if you need anything?"

Clarke looked down at the girl, wondering how she could be so smart and so beautiful at the same time. In his experience, it was usually one or the other, but he had reviewed her profile and she was the top of the graduating class. "If you don't mind, I COULD use some extra help setting up tomorrow, if you're up for it."

Hermione looked up at him, enjoying having his gorgeous green eyes locked on hers. "Of course. Eight good?"

"Yeah, that would be great," Clarke said, running a hand through his disheveled curls.

"See you then, Clarke," Hermione said, drawing out his name. Sauntering back towards the door, she brushed against Malfoy as she reached for her book bag.

"Thanks for the idea, Draco. Maybe I WILL learn a few things from CLARKE."

The blond followed Hermione out the door, grabbing her arm and dragging her around the corner. Pushing her against the wall, she dropped her book bag.

"Malfoy, what the-" She stopped talking when his lips found hers, hard and unforgiving. She gasped, glowing him to sweep his tongue slowly against her bottom lip, tangling with her own.

Draco took exactly what he wanted, biting her bottom lip as he fisted her curls, pulling her head back to give him more access. She groaned against his lips, the noise addictive. He yanked her legs over his hips, and she was supported only by the cool wall at her back and Draco's hot, hard body. She felt him pressing against her, completely helpless, both her legs tightly wound around his hips. Her skirt had ridden up, exposing her thighs to Draco's hands. He skimmed his hands down the rest of her, lightly over her breasts, unbuttoning her shirt a bit more.

He needed more. More of her soft, golden skin, more of her breathy little sighs. He wanted to own her, fuck her until the sun came up and she was hoarse from screaming his name. He needed to mark her, to ruin her. His mouth found the spot right above her collarbone, and he kissed her hard enough to leave mark, teeth scraping against her skin and tongue soothing where he had bitten. She gasped again, pleasure coiling in her stomach until she thought she would explode.

They were more than sparks. They were a fucking inferno, and Hermione needed to get out of it as fast as possible, before she forgot why it would be wrong to fuck the Slytherin Prince in the hallway. Pushing against him, she ran on unsteady legs back to their room, locking herself in her bedroom.

She walked over to her bathroom, needing to take a long, hot bath. Taking in her reflection in the mirror, she studied her thoroughly kissed lips, puffy and red, and her eyes trailed over her unbuttoned blouse. Her curls were strewn over her shoulder, and her skirt was up around her legs. She gasped when she saw Draco's handprint on her left thigh, much higher than he had a right to touch.

The brunette winced when she ran her fingers over her neck. What the… right above her collarbone, where her neck met her shoulder, was a red and purple mark with… teeth marks? He fucking BIT her? My God, and she had LIKED it. More than liked it, she had never wanted it to stop. Pain never registered, but looking over her body, she knew it should have. They were toxic together. It was an uncontrollable explosion, and she knew she couldn't do that again… he would ruin her. He would take her heart and stomp it into the ground, smirking all the while.

Draco was left alone in the hallway, stunned. Had he really just… he glanced at the two abandoned book bags, one his and one the Princess of Light's She was right to run. That was more intense than any fuck he'd ever had, and they were both fully clothed. If that was what kissing her felt like, he couldn't imagine what fucking her would feel like.

He hadn't meant to lose control like that, but watching her flirt so effortlessly with Lewis, watching his eyes rake over her body and light up with unconcealed interest… he couldn't do it. She wasn't Lewis's.

Draco had had a taste, and he wasn't about to stop now.

A/N So… I hope you guys liked it! Review, PLEASE! I promise I will continue ;)


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